#barstool pose

[parisoonic]

Hello! I don't know if you do requests, but could you draw Medic wearing Heavy's shirt? Maybe in the morning, he's stole it!

I know you probably wanted something soppy but this is what my horrible brain thought of.

[moonfromearth]

I missed Willow and since I don't think I'm going to get to play anything with her for a while I gave her a little makeover and tested out @aliengirl's pose set!

I loved all of these poses they're so cute and all seem super realistic in how they made! The one I had a problem with was trying to pose the final one in the pack (the pair pose) which I couldn't get lined up for the life of me (but that could also be user error lol 😅).

Thanks for the wonderful poses they're so amazing!!

[roiskelappa]

Now this pack took a lot to finish!

Here's a mixologist Sim (or cocktail enthusiast) complaining about the quality of their drink, and when the clueless barista will jokingly tease them, they will hoist themselves up the counter and literally make the drink themselves, flaunting their mixologist skills in front of everybody (especially their friend on the left, who will be super awkward and trying to facepalm their way out of existence).

Three silly in-game pics under the cut :)

Just place your teleporter in the middle of the bar.

You'll get:

18 gender neutral poses in total for 3 Sims

You'll need:

4-place bar from basegame and barstools

Drink by @natalia-auditore

Bottle by @redheadsims-cc

Shaker by @crystarosh-ts4

Hope you like this pack, tag me if you use the poses! Cheers! 🧃

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare NO ADS

@ts4-poses

[theragethatisdesire]

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

[daisynik7]

and if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

You squint your eyes at the pink neon sign flickering against the fake moss tapestry to the left of the bar. A young couple poses in front of it, smiling at their mutual friend who holds the phone to take a picture. Beautiful, radiant, charming. All while you sit on the barstool, hunched over the half-empty cocktail that you swirl in your grip, relishing the condensation on the rim of the glass. With your straw, you stab at the maraschino cherry floating around in there, popping it into your mouth. The sweetness cuts through the bitter liquor, or loneliness, lingering on your tongue and you think that maybe tonight isn’t so bad, despite your sulking.

It's another happy hour, courtesy of your boss. Everyone on your team is here, who you genuinely get along with, no problem. But there’s one person missing, the one person you want to see the most. Nanami is the only one to decline tonight’s invitation to the new trendy bar downtown. During your lunch together, you don’t ask why. You don’t want him to suspect that you’re devastated by his decision, which you are. So, you talk about how much you’re craving cake instead, changing the topic all together, hoping he doesn’t catch the hint of sadness in your tone.

Ever since he walked you home in the rain the other week, protected under his umbrella, there’s been this obvious vibe between you. Still, it could all be wishful thinking on your end. You never did get around to confessing your true feelings for him; you’d rather enjoy what you have as it is. Why ruin something good? There’s the hope that maybe things could be even better if you take this leap of faith. But it’s always terrifying taking the plunge, isn’t it? Especially when you don’t know if you’ll sink or swim.

It was by the fourth cocktail that you decided to leave your group gathered around the back table. That’s why you’re here now, sulking between strangers at the bar, chewing on your tiny straw until it’s gnarled on one end. Your friends on the team know the real reason, trying to dismiss all the jokes from your more annoying coworkers about how you must be missing your “work husband”. Even they’re shipping the two of you together. If only you knew what Nanami truly thinks about all this. About you.

To your complete shock, it doesn’t take you long to find out. Still in his work attire, Nanami walks through the front door, hair swept beautifully as always. As soon as his eyes find yours, he smiles, making his way to you. It’s only when he approaches you that you notice a small box in his hands. “Good. You’re still here,” he says, smile growing wider.

You blink at him several times, as if you’re not seeing him clearly.

“Can you come with me? I have something for you.” His voice is trembling slightly, excited.

You nod, still rendered speechless, wobbly as you follow him outside. When you’re alone in front of the establishment, the voices of those inside muffled and distant, you stare down at your shoes, anticipating what’s about to happen. He holds the box out to you, opening the cover slowly, revealing a personalized cake decorated beautifully with your name written in neat frosting on the top.

You meet his gaze, putting your hand to your mouth, hiding a gasp. “Nanami.”

“I made this for you. Because of what we talked about today.” He swallows hard, taking a step towards to you. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now. I…” He trails off, nervous, scared, uncertain. Just like you.

This time, you follow through with what you’ve been wanting to do since that rainy night not too long ago. You close the distance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Sparks fly and whatever buzz you have from the alcohol is replaced with this electricity. “Me too.”

Author's Note: A continuation of this. Yet another coworker!Nanami drabble inspired by a song that’s making me feel all sappy and soft. 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

[sciophobis]

[SP]Legacy Pt.1 - Flame

YOU NEED: Pose Player & Teleport Any Sim, any living chair and barstool

Download (EARLY ACCESS on BOOSTY | Alt)

Will be public on February 4

TOU

Don’t claim as your own.

Don’t re-upload.

Don't edit my poses.

Tag me if you use them♥(Instagram: sciommon)

[mandijsims]

JCPenny Awkward Photoshoot Poses

5 Poses (2 require barstool) Backdrop by LinaSims

DOWNLOAD

[xiuminuwu]

XOXO Yearbook Poses

10 yearbook poses based on photos from EXO’s XOXO album photoshoot.

All in one option

Made for barstools (should work with most)

For pose 6 you can use this accessory by Pralinesims for the complete look!

Download: Patreon (Free)

[fusaes]

— 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ft. nanami kento ♡

SYPNOSIS. ''When I'm fucked up, that's the real me, yeah'' You had one too many shots, with the help of your dear friend, Gojo Satoru. You could thank him, too. He hooked you up with one of his friends, Nanami Kento. His fierce and cold attitude, it only made you shiver with fear, but it posed a challenge. How can you make this hell of a man crack? WORD COUNT. 3.7k words PAIRINGS. Nanami x Fem!Reader WARNINGS. semi public sex (bathroom), public teasing, gojo and reader are sluts, mentions of alcoholic drinks, fubu trope with gojo, spanking + slapping (reader receiving), drunk sex, p in v sex, no condom, pussy eating, lmk if there's more. (you're in for a ride) OTHER NOTES. hello hello, I'm back with our nationwide husband, nanami :) enjoy this one || header art credits: @/oretsuu on X, mdni banner by the lovely benkeibear < 3 !

''Are we fucking when we leave the club, or nah?''

You could hear Gojo say from miles away, probably pestering another girl at the bar. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking for some dick, but he's just purely shameless at this point. The girl is sitting on his lap on a barstool, Gojo's tricky hands slipping under her dress. Vile, you thought.

It's not like you haven't experienced these things either, you weren't new to this ''City girl'' lifestyle. Sure, you've fucked around in a few bathrooms and storage rooms, but being out in public is just crazy. ''You have my number,'' the girl said, hopping off his lap. ''Give me a call, yeah?'' She walked away, an empty glass clasped in her hands.

Those cheap fake nails would fall off even before she gets a chance to touch Gojo's cock. You were Gojo's best friend, and vice versa. You let him meet your friends, and he lets you fuck around with his friends, too.

Some may say that it's a ''friends with benefits'' type of friendship, and it's true. You could fall for your best friend easily. But tonight, you're not out to look for true love. This time, you wanna forget.

You wanna forget about your problems, and once you enter the bright and erotic environment with beaming lights, you forget everything you know easily.

You walk up to Gojo, drinking up another shot. '''Toru.'' You say, taking the seat beside him. He drops his glass and removes his tinted shades just to take in your appearance. ''Hey, sugar. What'cha doing here?'' He didn't have to, but he recognized your voice even with his eyes closed.

''Nothing.'' You mutter, and he laughed at you. He didn't know exactly what you were doing here, but he knows you'll only end up doing the same thing over and over again. ''You wanna take home another man who can't last 15 seconds, darling?'' He beckons over the barista, asking to fill his glass.

''I'm right here, doll.'' Satoru teases, his hand landing on your thigh. ''I'm not one of your girls, 'Toru.'' You say, but letting his hand rest on your skin, his rings and bracelets indenting a cold feeling. ''Whatever, your loss.'' He jokes as the barista comes back with his glass filled.

Your hands grab it before he gets the chance to even smell it, and down it immediately. Gojo smiles at you and shoos away the barista. ''Someone's pretty sad tonight.''

He grabs his phone out of his pocket, the brightness of his phone lighting up his ocean eyes. Not gonna lie, if you aren't careful enough, you could actually fall for this man. ''And I know exactly what'll cheer 'ya up,'' Satoru says, his smile growing as a text conversation appears on his phone.

You roll your eyes, not really getting what he meant. But whatever it is, you knew Gojo knew the best for you.

Suddenly, Gojo rose up from his seat and took your hand. ''Alright let's go.'' He said, and you frowned. ''What the hell? I haven't even spent an hour yet!'' You tried fighting his grip on your hand but you couldn't. In the end, you gave up with your heels clacking on the floor

Satoru's eyes scanned the room, looking like he was looking for someone. ''What are you doing?'' You ask, curiously looking for no one in the crowd.

''Has anyone caught your eye?'' Gojo asks, his hands reaching down his pocket to put his black shades back on. Your eyes sweep the floor, looking for a meal tonight. You never find someone interesting just from one look. You didn't believe in love at first sight or cupid, but the lonesome man in the corner on his phone, drinking whisky- there, that's the one you want.

You didn't like boys who were younger than you, from your experience, they all seemed like amateurs. But, when it comes to a man who knew how to work a girl, hits differently. There's just something about this man, something so chilly that made you wanna break it.

''Blondie over there, that's mine.'' You say, smirking at Satoru who looks overjoyed. You were confused, it's as if he was hoping you would choose him, but whatever. Gojo knew your taste, and you were happy.

''Good girl.'' He says suddenly, and he walks over to the solitary man.

After a few minutes of walking through sweaty and smelly bodies in the pit of people on the dance floor, you make it to the 3rd bar of the club, where Mr. Hottie is sitting at.

''Nanamin! You made it.'' You froze. This fucker knew him all along? ''Gojo. What's this 'emergency' you were speaking of? And, it's Nanami.'' Fuck. His voice. You were melting from his chiseled face, big biceps, and the way he dressed, God he had you gobsmacked. You blink and step up to him.

''Y/N, Nice to meet you.'' You smile at him, his eyes trail over to your face, and down to your feet. You were never one to be embarrassed to wear whatever you wanted, but his eyes made you shiver from nervousness immediately. Just my fucking type, you thought.

He offers his hand, decorated with a watch. You accept his hand, feeling his rough skin on yours. You sneakily check his fingers, empty. You celebrated a little in your head and shook his hand, thank God you won't have to deal with another scandal.

''Nanami, you probably heard.'' You giggle a little and Gojo was already sitting on Nanami's left side, as you take the empty seat on his right. You try to stir up a conversation, ''Yeah, what 'emergency' were you on about, 'Toru?'' Nanami's eyebrows curved at the nickname.

''You would've come here nonetheless, Nanamin.'' Gojo joked as he asked the barista for a drink. ''False. I wouldn't have come here if you didn't disturb me from my work,'' Nanami raises two fingers as a signal to the barista for two. ''Oh? What work, Nanami?'' Nanami only stared at you, dissecting everything your body could offer.

You leaned back in your seat, giving him a good view, swinging your leg over the other. ''I'd prefer you call me Kento,'' Gojo smirked, his plan going smoothly but carefully.

It didn't take a while for girls to start crowding around Satoru, girls with their tits almost spilling out their dresses. You scoff, but Nanami paid it no attention. He's used to it, huh? You thought. Maybe you should hang around Gojo more, so you would be more unphased by bullshit.

''I better be going, I'll leave you two.'' The ''heartthrob'' sat up from his seat and entertained the mob of girls. ''Your drink?'' Nanami asks. ''Those are for you two. On me.'' Gojo finally left and you smiled to yourself. ''He won't ever change, huh?'' You pop a joke, taking a sip from your beverage.

''Now that he's gone, I hope he never does. Even though I wouldn't admit it myself.'' Nanami didn't drink whatever Satoru told the barista. Instead, he took the decorative flower from the side of the cup and twirled the stem of it in between his fingers.

''You seem young. What are you doing hanging around a man like him?'' You were flattered, honestly. A lot of people have told you that you looked like you were in your early 20s. In truth, you weren't that far from Gojo's age.

''Why thank you.'' You smile at him, taking another drink. ''Well, be it no surprise, I'm almost the same age as the lunatic over there.'' Your eyes point in Satoru's direction, where a girl is bent over in front of him, while others are feeling him up. You earned a small chuckle from the man in front of you.

All you really wanted was to get fucked dumb by Mr.Hulk over here. But, you knew he wasn't a sex-crazed boy who would fuck any loose hole he could fit his cock in.

''You didn't answer my question, Kento.'' You say, finally setting down your drink to give him your full attention. ''I work at the same place as your best friend does,'' Nanami answered, but you needed details.

You can't just survey a man you just met. 'Where do you live? Do you have a girlfriend? How many exes do you have? Are you a virgin?' No, that's weird.

An idea emerged in your head, a classic. ''Hey, let's play a game.'' His expression didn't change, but his body faced towards you, seeming intrigued. ''Two truths and one lie. You have to take a shot for every guess you get wrong.'' ''Simple enough.'' He added.

''I'll start then.'' You say, taking a shot glass from the stand, filling it up with Bacardi, and passing it to him. ''Alright. I work at a hospital. I hate going out. I enjoy clothes designing.'' You say, staring at his face while trying to figure you out, like a puzzle.

You purposely smiled at him, confusing him further. But, he doesn't budge, he looks like he's got you all figured out. ''Well, the lie was that you hated going out, is that right?'' You put your hands together to clap for him, even though you went easy on him.

''You work at a hospital?'' Nanami asked, seeming genuinely curious, and you understand. Who would've thought a nurse in the day would become a party hopper every night.

''Yeah. Surprisingly enough.'' You took the shot as a penalty for failing to trick him. ''That's amazing.'' You were happy he acknowledged your hard work, but now it's his turn.

You weren't gonna lie, your eyes were turning a little blurry and your head was starting to spin. You put your head in your hands as you await his answer. ''I was once a salaryman. I hate bread. I love mentoring students.'' You were thinking.

Not about his question, of course.

''The lie was that you were once a salaryman?'' You ask, confused. Trying to read his expression, you find nothing. Not a muscle- even an inch moved. ''The lie was that I hated bread.'' He said, skillfully flicking the glass to you with his index finger.

''I was a salaryman, but I changed paths.'' You drank the liquid, quite numb to the burning sensation you would feel in your throat. ''I left my original job to be a salaryman, but came back soon after I-'' ''My turn.'' You interrupt.

This was going too slow, and you were getting bored. You needed him right now, and this kid's game isn't helping you to get used like a toy by him.

You originally had planned to know more about him, but the alcohol is taking over your sentiece and is talking for you. Nanami's mouth curved into a small smile, almost invisible to the naked eye. ''I was fired at my old job, I'm a virgin...

And I want you right now.''

You look at him through your lashes, awaiting his next move. He didn't seem surprised at all, despite the bomb you had just dropped on him right now. The salaryman's smile only grew wider at your divulgence. ''You better be careful,'' Nanami said, pouring more into your glass.

''Don't start something you can't finish.'' He adds.

You grow curious. ''What are you suggesting, sir?'' You play innocent, drawing circles with your wrist with your glass in hand, swirling the alcohol around. Nanami's eyebrows raise, the sudden change of demeanor catching him off guard.

''Curiosity kills the cat.'' You pout at his words. You didn't expect him to be this dead to the world, unless...

He knows your tricks and he's playing with you. Damn. You curse in your head.

You're starting to get tired of this. You were willing to settle for a man who could only last 15 seconds- just to get rid of this stupid feeling. You weren't an animal in heat that just went to clubs and get rammed by random dudes, but this was boring you.

Who were you to blame? You were getting played at your own game. Someone could come over and crown you as ''The sore loser of the night''.

You drank the last stein, and picked up your purse. ''Game's over.'' You set the empty glass on the table and adjusted your skirt down to your mid-thigh, preparing to leave and go fuck around somewhere else.

This is another reason you didn't believe in cupid. Especially when the son of a bitch is Gojo Satoru. You kinda wish you had his bow so you could pierce an arrow through his skull, maybe then would he have good ideas.

You attempt to step away, but got pulled back into your seat. ''I haven't made my guess yet, you princess.''

Did his voice get deeper or are you getting fucked in the head?

Even though you didn't like getting pushed around and doing shit you didn't want to, the way his hand just swallows your wrist and the veins- God the veins.

''Are you listening?'' Nanami gave you a chuckle. Was he making fun of you? ''You're making this too easy for me, sweetheart.'' He says, his hand letting go of your wrist, trailing to the necklace you had wrapped around your neck, and starting playing with the cold metal.

''Easy? How?'' Your eyes narrow, first he was laughing at you, and he's basically saying you gave the answer away.

Well, you did. That was a last-ditch effort to get this man to crack, but it didn't work. So fuck that. ''Your thighs are shaking.'' You didn't even notice his free hand on your tights, caging your thigh in his large hands.

''J-Just get this over with.'' It's the alcohol, you swear. It's not the effect this man had on you. ''The lie was that you're a virgin.'' His other hand let go of your necklace and seized your throat as his now occupied hand took the filled glass.

''Open up, sweetheart.'' His finger pulled your lower lip down, beckoning you to open up your mouth. You oblige, as he poured the liquid into your mouth, the hand on your neck massaging the sides of your throat. ''Good fucking girl.''

You close your eyes, trying to feel if all of this was real. The moment the alcohol stopped dripping into your mouth, you open them, seeing Nanami slightly smirking at your appearance.

Some of it spilled down your chin and onto his hands, but when you tried to wipe it off, he swatted your hand away. ''Lick it off.'' He said, offering his dirty hand to you, facing it towards your needy mouth.

You didn't hesitate, but your hands slowly took his, and licked the excess off of his hands, making sure to clean it up nicely. Nanami let out a low grunt, feeling your hot tongue on the surface of his hand.

''Fuck, let's go.'' Nanami pulled out a few dollars out of his pocket, which looked like a 20 bill. He slid it to the barista and she gave him a quick nod as a sign of thank you. You smirked, the action only adding to your arousal.

Nanami led you to an empty stall in the bathroom, pushing you against the wall of the cubicle, your leg wrapping around his waist. Your hands tangle in his hair at the back of his head, pulling him into you.

You kissed him passionately, as your free hand made work into unbuttoning his dress shirt, feeling his hard abs over the fabric. You could almost moan, and you haven't even touched him fully yet. His tongue was dominating yours, fully tasting everything your mouth had to offer.

His hand trailed to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze and landing a small spank. You squeal into his mouth, while he smiled into your mouth, enjoying your sounds more than he expected. His fingers slip under your skirt, pulling down your tights and feeling your wet heat over the cotton of your panties.

''N-Nanami-'' You fail to speak, his mouth not letting you mutter any other words. His fingers hook under your underwear and move them to the side. His thumb toying with your needy clit.

You moan into his mouth, back arching. Your hand unzips his slacks, not even caring to take off his belt. Your hands find the opening of his boxers, and let his cock spring free.

Nanami let out a grunt, as you started to palm his dick. He finally pulls away from your swollen lips, admiring the work he did. ''Beautiful.'' He said, unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your cleavage. His hand grabbed your tit and let it spill out of your bra and shirt.

You turn your head away from his stare, but his hand quickly grabs your chin and places your head back to its original position.

''Look at me while I make this needy pussy feel good, baby.''

Nanami kneeled in front of you, placing your leg on his shoulder, while the other was still on the floor as his hand hooked around it, keeping you glued into your place.

His free hand pulled your panties down with your tights, fully exposing your wet pussy to him. His mouth almost watered at the sight, and buried his face in between your thighs, lapping up your essence with his tongue. Your hand covers your mouth, a weak attempt to not let any sound escape.

Nanami's mouth was busy, but his other hand wasn't. His hand unlaced his tie with one motion, the sight of his hands making you clench over nothing. You swore you felt him smirk against your pussy. His eyes looked up to you while he offered the tie to you, and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

You put the tie in your mouth, while his teeth lightly bit your clit, making you jerk in response. The slight twinge of pain and pleasure drove you fucking crazy.

His fingers entered your cunt, curling into the spot that made you mad. You bit down on the tie, trying to hold in your noise. You grinded into his fingers, needing and begging for more. ''More...'' Even though he probably didn't understand it, the more your moans grew louder, he knew you became more and more desperate.

His cock was leaking precum, already wanting to replace his fingers inside of you. Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt, while his mouth worked magic into sucking your clit in between his teeth.

You were gonna cum, fuck you were gonna cum. ''Gonna- mm- cum 'fo me, princess?'' He asked you, while his mouth was still busy with sucking up all of your juices. You nod for him, your climax edging closer and closer.

''Cum- fuck, cum for me, let me see how pretty you get when I make you feel like you're in the heavens.''

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, as his fingers curl one last time, your orgasm hitting you like a bus. Your thighs were already shaking, and you almost collapsed as you released all over Nanami's face.

His eyes didn't leave your face, firmly observing the way your face turns into when you cum. He didn't waste a drop, as his tongue licked all of what you gave him.

He took your trembling thigh off of his shoulder and wrapped both around his waist, pushing you up into the wall. ''Fuck, look at what you do to me.'' His cock was throbbing, rubbing himself in your pooling heat.

''Hurry up...'' Your words came out as a whisper, but he stopped, his dick resting on top of your pussy. ''Don't tell me...'' He took his cock in his hands and aligned it to your entrance, collecting your juices on the tip. ''What...'' He pushes himself in,'' To..'' deeper, ''Do.'' and deeper.

Your moan gets trapped by his tie, while your nails are digging into the muscle on his back. He groans at the crescents growing on his skin, surely going to bleed.

His hips roll like a pornstar, while his hands grope your ass. ''Kento!'' Your words were almost inaudible, as he thrusted faster into you. Your hands took the tie out of your mouth and pulled him into a kiss.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, while he ravaged you completely. Everything was moving so fast. It felt like you were just sitting across the man making you see stars right now. The previous headache you got from the alcohol dissipated immediately.

''C-Cum-'' Was the only thing you could manage to let out, as his tongue entangled with yours. His hands landed another spank on your ass, for sure going to leave a handprint.

Suddenly, Nanami pulls away and stops his hips. You frown at his action.

His hand which was on your ass, moved to your face, landing a slap on your cheek. ''Who's been a good girl?'' Slap. You didn't answer at first, the pain stinging on your cheek.

''Answer.'' Slap. ''Me!'' You answer quickly. Slap. ''Who's the prettiest girl in this building?'' Slap. ''M-Me.'' Your cheek must be red already, the heavy but restrained slaps turning you on but than you expect.

''And who's gonna cum tonight?'' Slap. ''Me...'' You say, as he kissed your red cheek as a reward, and snapped his hips into you, his length reaching deeper in your hot cunny. Your eyes close, feeling your climax inch closer and closer.

Nanami kisses your neck, leaving bites and sucking hickies. ''Fuck, 'M cumming.'' Nanami buries his face into your neck, savoring your scent.

His hips stutter, hesitating whether he is going to release inside of you or pull out, but your legs wrap around his waist, caging him in. Your mind was melting, the lingering smell of his cologne only made you dizzier.

He squeezed your ass, emptying his load inside of your tight cunt, drowning it in white. He raises his head from your neck, eyeing the mess on your face. Smudged mascara, messy lipstick, your hair almost messy- but it looked perfect to him. It was a sight that deserved to be plastered onto his bedroom ceiling.

Your hands run in his scalp, brushing all of the hair stuck on his forehead away. His lips crashed onto yours, but you heard a knock on the stall.

''Ya done? The club's closed, lovebirds.'' Gojo said.

wowow feels good to b back!!! i love taking on big projects like this so i can get back ti writing. anyways, love you. take care ... ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

[izvmimi]

cw: crack but also cute, i think. reader has a specified magic, and she and mash are friends (for now). reader's a bit preoccupied with his diet. a bit of medical talk.

Mash is three bites into a cream puff when you put away the last of your pantry essentials, and turn to look at him, a slight frown on your face.

He’s done the legwork of your grocery shopping run, bringing everything into your apartment in one trip, and now, baked good in hand, he’s looking idly in your direction. You can tell you’ve exhausted him all morning with your chatter, but he’d deny it if you asked him, claiming he’s content to hear whatever you have to say.

You are now tasked with the job of convincing yourself that that’s true, but Mash doesn’t lie, and it is particularly hard to lie to you anyway. You lean over your counter as you watch him sit atop your barstool, kicking his feet practically, and when he catches you watching him finally, his eyes soften as he inquires what you have to say. 

“Mm?”

You almost feel bad for spoiling his happiness when you say, “Mash, I think we should talk about your diet.”

He blinks, and takes four more bites, rapidly in succession. He knows exactly what you mean. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my diet.”

He’s eating faster now, and before you can open your mouth the cream puff is gone. There are at least three more stowed away from the supermarket bakery this morning, sitting in your fridge, that he absolutely plans to leave with. Not that you can stop him, or would.

But it’s your duty to say something. 

Moving in closer to talk to him, you pull up the other barstool and rest your elbow on the counter to prop up your chin. Now you’re eye to golden eye, and his expression is unchanged, neutral as always but he’s focused on you.

“I know you like them, but you can’t live off of flour and sugar, Mash.”

He blinks again. “Why not?”

You scrunch your nose. “Diabetes? Which leads to heart disease, stroke, poor arterial circulation, retinopathy, renal failure…” your fingers tap the desk with every disease, but your voice trails off as you can see his eyes glaze over and you let yourself sigh internally before stopping. “I’m wasting my time with this, aren’t I?” you say, not annoyed but somewhat defeated. You’ve looked away for a moment, but when you look back, you’re not sure when he moved, but there’s another cream puff in hand.

“Mash!”

“Mm?”

You grit your teeth. “At least consider what I have to say for a second.”

Through bites, he insists, “No, you totally have a point but my nutrition is fine.” He swallows, then pats his left chest. “Mike and Kevin have not brought anything to my attention.”

It’s your turn to give him a blank look, but Mash never ceases to surprise you, and if you don’t say something fast, he’ll tell you about the rest of his muscles’ thoughts and feelings. 

“Right but long term, Mash.”

“Mm.” He smiles, accepting your concern for him. “Show me where I’m unhealthy then.”

Mash stands and raises his arms in a T-pose, and unable to help it, you burst out laughing. Of course, you can’t find any flaw - every extent of his body remains as chiseled and developed as the day you first met him, and the fact that he even looks so seriously willing to participate is so laughable. 

“I-” you’ve run out of ways to defend your stance, but then you shake your head.

“You know that’s not what I mean-”

Somehow in the time that you closed your eyes and shook your head to recollect yourself, he’s started doing push-ups. You give him an appraising look, then go to the fridge and pull out a cabbage from the crisper.

Without bothering to ask, you settle down on his back once he’s slowed for a moment, and he continues, this time slow enough that you won't topple off of him. 

“Okay, how about if I turn this choux into choux cream?” 

He pauses in the up position, and cranes his neck up in your direction.

“I’m listening.”

“Good.” He descends again, and you make yourself more comfortable on his back, tucking your legs in. 

“I use my magic to make you feel like you’re eating a cream puff, but it’s actually a nutritious vegetable.”

“Mm.”

He stops, and you jump off of him, and then he takes the cabbage from you in his right hand as you stand before him. Looking from the cabbage to you, he asks:

“So you’ll replicate the entire experience of a cream puff in this cabbage?”

You nod. “Like this.”

You touch his hand gently, whisper your incantation, and in Mash’s eyes, the cabbage now has the appearance of a perfectly appetizing cream puff in his hand, far better appearing than the one he just had, and far too eager, he brings it to his mouth, spitting out immediately when it’s a raw cabbage and not his favorite food in his mouth. 

“Unpleasant.”

You grimace.

“Shit, I think I need stronger magic,” you murmur to yourself. Scratching your chin, you realize that taste might require a bit closer contact.

“Mash.”

Mash has set the half-bitten cabbage back down and is now in your fridge to cleanse his palate with another cream puff.

“Wait!”

He turns to the sound of your voice, mouth full, and you sigh. Walking towards him, you take the cream puff out of his mouth and set that on a plate too, right next to the cabbage. 

Moving to the sink to wash your hands, you ask, “Can you let me try again? I just need permission to touch your cheek or tongue in order to make sure your taste buds get involved in the illusion.”

You turn and look at him, once your hands are dry, and you shake them out, and he looks at you contemplatively. 

You raise an eyebrow.

“Can I or-”

Suddenly he steps forward, and gently takes your face in his hands, and before you know it, he’s kissed you. Tongue in your mouth, sweet and swirling quickly; it’s over almost as quickly as it began.

You hold your breath, but he’s reached for the cabbage now, and bites into it.

“It worked.”

The look on his face is pleasant and unfazed, unlike you. Your heart races for a moment, but soon you remember to breathe and air fills your lungs again.

All that’s left to say, your cheeks warmed, is, “I’m glad.”

[rosiesimsie]

Posepack - Be my Valentine.

Hello, hello! Today I'm sharing with you a Valentine's Day posepack.

This posepack contains 6 poses : 2 solo & 4 couple.

You'll need :

• pose player & teleporter : here

• bouquet (necklace) : here

• balloon (ring) : here

• single rose (R Hand, gloves) : here

• A barstool

• A double bed

Feel free to tag me on instagram if you use them @rosiesimsie I want to see your amazing posts!

This posepack is free as always but you can support me on Patreon if you want! :)

TOU :

Don't reupload

Don't re-edit

Don't claim as your own

INSTAGRAM - check out Leya's story!

download - Free.

"be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about"

@ts4-poses ; @itsjessicaccfinds ; @alwaysfreecc ; @sssvitlanz ; @frosensimsfinds ; @sims4ccworld | Thank you <3

[sebuckyverse]

roommates [chapter 1]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 1,8k a/n: hello i'm back!! happy valentines day to all my besties and my wife of course! i'm celebrating my birthday today so as a gift to you, i give you a new series! i'm nervous about this bc i'm convinced this is trash lmao LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THINK babes ps! i originally didn't intend to give this an era, but due to some things that happen in future chapters this turned out modern again lol sorryy

masterlist ↡ askbox ↡ next chapter ↠

chapter one ♫♪♩·.¸¸

''Absolutely not!''

''Come on, he's not that bad.''

''No, Steve. I'd rather sleep on the streets.''

''You'd rather be homeless then live with him?''

''Yes.''

Steve sighed, hands on his hips, striking his signature mom pose. ''What the hell happened between you two, anyway?''

''What, he hasn't told you?''

''He's told me his version of events. You on the other hand, never seem to want to talk about it.''

Sighing, you stared into the glass sat in front of you, filled with clear liquid with a greenish hue underneath, twirling the small paper umbrella Steve added as a joke.

''It doesn't matter. What Eddie Munson and I once had, or didn't have, theoretically, is in the past.''

''Then take the room. You're both working, you'll hardly ever see each other.''

Dragging your words, you nervously played with the ends of your hair. ''I don't know...''

''Look, I gotta open the doors. You can stay in the back office tonight if you want, there's an uncomfortable leather couch with your name on it. I'd let you crash at ours, but Nance has been... emotional.''

''She okay?'' you winced, hopping of the barstool you had been sitting on the last hour.

''She thinks she can feel the baby kicking but then she realizes that it's far too early for that and starts crying.''

''Oh,'' you cooed. ''She's just excited.''

''Yeah, I know. I'm excited, too.''

You closed the door to the office space that would be your bedroom for the night. It was small, but held a small desk with various papers scattered on it, a bookshelf half empty and as promised, a worn out brown leather couch. Dropping your purse on the desk, you retrieved your phone and sat down on the couch. You rested your head on the back of the couch, eyes closed, nearly falling asleep if it weren't for the sudden rock music booming outside. You'd almost forgotten you were at Steve's place of work, a bar downtown called the Black Room.

Staring at the bleak ceiling, you bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your eyes getting watery. For the past year, after graduating high school, you had been working your ass off at a local diner across town. You were saving money for college, and other things, since you didn't receive the scholarship you hoped would change your life. Every time you got a paycheck, you withdrew some of it and kept it aside. In the year since you started working, the saved amount wasn't big, but it was still significant to you and you were proud of yourself for keeping it and not spending the money like that little devil on your shoulder keeps suggesting sometimes.

But all of that was now gone, and all it took was a simple mistake of trusting the wrong person and all of your hopes and dreams came crashing down, taking your money with it. To save some money, you moved in with an old friend from high school, Jennie. What you didn't know, was that Jennie was also a pathological liar, who was in financial debt and to ease those debts, found the money you had kept hidden under your mattress (a dumb place to hide money, you know that) and stole it to pay off some of her debts.

Throwing Jennie out was not an option unfortunately, the apartment lease was under her name, so without much thought, you turned on your heel and marched right back out. Heading down the street, you had no idea where you were going. You made it two blocks from your home and nearly collided with a lamp post, when the sound of a bus horn somewhere behind you brought you back to reality. You hopped on the bus that stopped a few feet away from you and headed straight downtown to the Black Room, where you knew Steve would be working tonight.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing you knew, something was kicking at your feet.

''My, my... Look what the cat dragged in.''

You'd recognize that voice anywhere; deep, sometimes raspy from all the cigarettes he likes to smoke, or at least he used to. It's the voice you used to hear late at night, reading a book out loud when you couldn't sleep due to the thunder outside, or when that same voice used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you weren't feeling well. It's also the voice that, one day, in less than 12 hours, turned from sweet and caring to cold and distant.

Right, you forgot he worked here too.

You were laying on your side, feet hanging off the couch. You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw were pair of black jeans, ripped from the right knee and left thigh, one of his Converse clad foot was kicking your heels. A black Henley with the front tucked into his pants, the unforgettable handcuff belt on full display with the black leather more worn out than the last time you saw it, Eddie was looking down at you like a God above, the ceiling lamp above him casting a glow around his hair, still the same as it was in high school - at least some things never change.

''Edward.'' You pushed up from the couch, wincing at the tired muscles of your back. Steve was right, that couch was shit.

The use of his full name always used to irritate him, but if it bothered him now, he didn't show it. Instead, he clicked his tongue and took a few steps to his left and sat on the desk, his hands resting beside him, gripping the edge of the table. ''Whatcha doing here, sweetheart? Haven't seen you in years.''

''First of all, don't call me that,'' you sighed. ''Second, that's none of your business.''

Eddie smirked. ''You're at my place of work, it's kind of my business.''

''What time is it?'' you felt around for your phone, but didn't find it.

''Oh, it's uh...'' Eddie pulled a phone out of his back pocket, your phone. ''02:14 am.''

''Hey! Give me that,'' you held your palm up.

Eddie looked at your hand for a moment, before handing the phone back to you, the back of his knuckles grazing your palm. You swallowed down the spark you felt speed across your arm. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up to his elbow, exposing tattoos you had never seen before as well as his toned arms. Doing a quick once over, you noticed his physique was fuller... everywhere. Does he work out? He was pretty tall and lanky back in high school, but now he looked like he had grown into his body; the jeans were hugging his thighs and his shoulders seemed more defined.

Clearing your throat, you asked, ''Why did you even have that? Is stealing your side hustle now?''

''It was laying on the floor, pardon me. Didn't want to step on it.''

''Fine. Thanks for not stepping on it, I guess,'' you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on the bookshelf.

''Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm doing here?''

''Don't you work here?''

''Yeah, but not tonight.''

''Okay, I honestly don't care, so...''

''Oh, don't be like that. After all, I'm here to save you.''

You turned to look at him, and that turned Eddie's small smirk into a big Cheshire cat like grin. ''Save me?''

''Steve called me and told me about your predicament.''

Groaning, you threw your head back against the couch. ''God damn Steve.''

''Look, I know we have... history and everything, but I'm only here as a friend. Consider it an olive branch for how things ended back in high school.''

You gaped at him, your eyes bulging and your mouth hanging open. ''Wow. Okay. No, thank you.''

Eddie rolled his eyes. ''You have nowhere else to go.''

''Yes, I do,'' you lied, and very obviously so. You were never any good at it.

''Then why are you sleeping on this fucked up couch?''

Gritting your teeth, you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. Damn Steve and his loud mouth, you were going to hit him on the head. Eddie sighed and got up from the desk, coming closer and crouching next to the couch.

''The offer stands 'til the end of the week. You need a room and I need a roommate now that Steve's gone. I work here every Wednesday through Saturday and after that I usually sleep for two days to get ready for my next shift. We'll hardly ever see each other.''

''Tonight's Wednesday and you're not working.''

''I needed a personal day,'' he winked.

''You know, I've heard about your gigolo way of life.''

Eddie laughed, his eyes shining in the process. ''Gigolo?''

''You're a manwhore.''

Snorting, Eddie rested his hand on his palm, covering his mouth. ''Is that what Steve told you?''

''Are you denying it?'

''No,'' he mused, his voice muffled behind his fist.

''See, that's why I can't move in. I don't want to hear that every night.''

''You used to like hearing me moan in your ear.''

Eddie must have seen the hurt flash across your eyes, since he suddenly grew quiet himself.

His voice was lower now, more serious. What he said next, made you whip your head around and look at those big, chocolate brown eyes that you used to miss so much. ''I know you hate me, I understand that. Despite what happened back then, I still care about you. As a friend, of course. Yes, I sleep around and I am a man so the place is probably messier than you'd like, but I'm offering you a free place to stay. I know you don't have any money either, I'm good to cover us both for a while. Take it or leave it.''

''Why would you do this?'' you asked, looking deep into his eyes, like you were searching for his soul through them.

Sitting so close to him, your chest constricted at all the memories and what if's that have bombarded you throughout the years. Three years after you fled high school, never looking back, he still had a hold on you and you hated him for it. Hated the way he smelled exactly the same but new at the same time, the way he looked like he used to but more mature, the way you still felt your heart nearly burst out of your throat when he looked at you with those stupid brown eyes. You despised him, because after all this time, you still felt the same. If you do this, you had to keep your heart closed, lock it away and swallow the key. Eddie Munson broke your heart once, you won't let him do it again.

''Fine. I'll take it.''

[dead-lights]

portraits of the vatore siblings [in-game wall art]

I'm having a lot of fun putting the Vatores in period clothes, so I made some renders of them dressed up in 1890s-1940s clothing and threw them into that big frame from Vampires.

download [sfs]

This was a pretty big project: 3 cc wall art pieces covering 6 decades of fashion with 12 separate outfits, which resulted in 18 individual renders and 144 total swatches. Also, the frame itself is huge. I prefer them sized down (shift + [ in buy mode) but they are 100% the type to own larger-than-life portraits of themselves.

My hc is that the Vatores were born in the late 1930s/early 1940s, so imo they aren't actually old enough to have worn any of these clothes when they were first in style. I think they dressed up like it’s old times and took a buncha pictures just to confuse people trying to figure out how old they really are. Sibling bonding!

Included below are all 18 renders, with cc and full color below the cut.

1890s

1900s

1910s

1920s

1930s

1940s

I'm a little obsessed with Lilith's 1940s look ngl

lilith

1890s

hair: granny bun by @saurusness

hat: fine feathered hat by @gilded-ghosts

earrings: rose in the garden earrings by @rustys-cc

dress: the ida dress by retro-pixels (direct link)

pose: from mademoiselle by @blackpanda-ts4

1900s

hat: striped bow hat by @lilis-palace

hair: bertha by @buzzardly28

earrings: arthur earrings by @yakfarm

outfit: dress: edwardian huntress dress by @elfdor

pose: also from mademoiselle

1910s

hair and flower accessory: gibson curl updo by @the-melancholy-maiden

earrings: arthur earrings by yakfarm

dress: rose lunch dress by @happylifesims

pose: also from mademoiselle

1920s

hair: maxie by @raindropsoncowplants

lipstick: clara by @chere-indolente

dress: 1920s evening dress 06 by happylifesims

pose: from the louise brooks posepack

1930s

hair: gigi by @simadelics

coat: 1930s female coat 02 by happylifesims

pose: from barstool poses ii by @katverse

1940s

hair & dress from forties film noir by gilded-ghosts

pose: from monday poses by @ratboysims

caleb

1890

hat: 1920s top hat by happylifesims

1900

outfit: men's casual edwardian suit by @historicalsimslife

hat: 1920s bowler hat by happylifesims

1910

hat: 1920s fedora hat by happylifesims

1920

hat/coat: dmitri hat & coat by happylifesims

1930

fedora shape no. 2 by happylifesims

1930s male trench coat 01 by happylifesims

1940

hat: fedora shape no. 1 by happylifesims

suit: paper, ink, & sorrow suit by @anachrosims

sibling poses

jane austen poses by @atashi77 (both 1890)

model poses 32 (lilith 1900, 1920, 1930, 1940) and male poses 11 (caleb 1900, 1910, 1920, 1930, 1940) by @helgatisha

edwardian socialite by @funkyllama (lilith 1910)

@occult-cc-finds

[simmerianne93]

[Simmerianne93]Portrait_poses_10

 Hello everyone!!! How are you today???

I was supposed to bring these poses two days ago, but I forgot to make the post and when i remembered it, i was too lazy to do it haha so, here they are, two days later haha....

I saw these references in pinterest (my main inspo source xD) and i really wanted to make them, so I did it. I don't know who they could be useful to, but I suppose there are many sim families out there with a toddler and an infant as children. So I hope you like them and that they are useful to decorate your family's homes with some cute portraits.

I have many more saved portrait references of all kinds, so I will probably be bringing more in the future, although if you have any suggestion for some "type" of group (for example: 2 children and 1 infant, or 1 infant, 1 toddler and 1 child; or 1 teenager and 2 infants, monoparental or both parents), I would like to know.

Anyway, for now, this is it. I'll leave you with the pose description:

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What is on it?

6 Groupal poses for 2 ADULT sims, 1 TODDLER sim and 1 INFANT sim.

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What do you need?

Andrew's poses player 

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.

a barstool (I used the industrial barstool from BG, but I think it works with any barstool)

Invisible infant mat replacement  by mcrudd  (OPTIONAL)

Instructions in the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

Download it now here — [Early access until May 11th, 2024]

——————

If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi

All my poses overview: Pinterest |  Wix | Tumblr

More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram

My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr 

——————

I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.

@ts4-poses

[sciophobis]

[SP]Legacy Pt.2 - Mer

YOU NEED: Pose Player & Teleport Any Sim, any living chair and barstool

Download (EARLY ACCESS on BOOSTY | Alt)

Will be public on February 18

TOU

Don’t claim as your own.

Don’t re-upload.

Don't edit my poses.

Tag me if you use them♥(Instagram: sciommon)

[katverse]

Barstool Poses 4

These chair poses for The Sims 4 are perfect for creating different scenarios with your sims! There are 5 poses in total so you can create a variety of different scenes. 🖤

5 poses total

The Sims 4 Poses

In-game + all-in-one option

I used the base game Groovy Times Bar Stool

Place the teleporter in the middle of the barstool

you’ll need:

Teleport any sim

Pose player mod or WonderfulWhims mod

*If you download the sim, don’t forget to download all the CC listed.

Download: katverse.com Public release: 15th February, 2023

You can also download this sim, Ivan. Full CC list is included ✨

TOU | INSTAGRAM | YOUTUBE | TWITTER | KO-FI ☕